Just Like Heaven
by PrettyPoppy
Summary: Lying in the warmth of Spike's arms for the very first time, Buffy is moved to reveal a long-held secret. Set during "Touched." S/B - Complete


Title: Just Like Heaven

Author: PrettyPoppy

Summary: Lying in the warmth of Spike's arms for the very first time, Buffy is moved to reveal a long-held secret. Set during "Touched."

Rated: G

Author's Notes: Written for the Spring 2010 round of Seasonal Spuffy.

Disclaimer: Nope. I don't own Spike or Buffy. Everything belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, and whoever else has a legal right to it.

* * *

Buffy laid her head on Spike's shoulder and closed her eyes. His arms seemed to instinctively tighten around her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt safe, and warm, and whole.

They had all turned their backs on her. Willow, Xander, Giles . . . even Dawn. The people who were supposed to care about her. The people who were supposed to be her family. They had turned her out into the street. Driven her out. And the only person in the entire world who was on her side was the vampire lying beside her; the inhuman creature who was supposed to revel in her misery and kick her when she was down. But that's not what he was doing at all. He was standing by her side, holding her. Just being there for her. Loving her, even though she felt like she would never be worthy of anyone's love again.

Buffy snuggled closer to Spike. Her mind was cloudy with exhaustion and what she wanted more than anything in the world was simply to fall asleep. She sighed contentedly, as Spike leaned forward and placed a simple kiss atop her head.

"Just like before," Buffy mumbled tiredly, as sleep finally began to claim her.

"What's that luv?" Spike asked, his voice soft and warm and quiet.

"This is just like before. When you used to hold me."

Spike's body stiffened. "Never held you before pet."

Buffy's heart skipped a beat and her eyes shot open. She was suddenly wide awake.

Spike must have heard her heartbeat quicken, because he pulled back slightly so that he could look down at her. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Buffy said, refusing to meet his inquisitive gaze. Instead, she pulled him close again, resting her head over his unbeating heart.

"Know somthin's wrong," Spike replied, his hand coming up to gently stroke her hair. "Why don't you tell me?"

Buffy willed herself to remain calm. Not to reveal the secret she'd been hiding for oh-so-very long now. She'd been so exhausted that the words had just slipped out, unbidden. Now she had to mitigate the damages. "There's nothing wrong. I was having a dream, that's all."

Spike stayed silent after that, and Buffy was grateful. She didn't want to hurt him; not now, not after everything he had done for her. It was better if he didn't know. Better if he never knew. Although her heart longed to tell him, her head simply couldn't allow it.

Buffy didn't realize that Spike was still stroking her hair until he suddenly stopped. "You dream about me?" he asked quietly.

"Yes." Buffy was glad to be able to tell him something that was true. She dreamt about him all the time. Sometimes the dreams were sweet and melancholy. Sometimes they were harsh and violent. Her feelings for Spike ran deep, and even though sometimes she was confused about what those feelings were, she knew they were always going to be a part of her. For as long as she lived.

"And I've held you in these dreams?"

"Yes." Buffy's voice broke and she was surprised to suddenly find tears stinging the corners of her eyes. The truth was, Spike _had_ held her before. Just like this. He simply didn't know it. And it would be selfish to tell him the truth now.

"So if it was all just a dream, why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying," Buffy replied, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"Right. And I'm not dead. Buffy," Spike pulled away again. This time he sat up in the bed, forcing Buffy to do the same. She sat beside him, still held within the circle of his arms. "What's wrong?"

"I told you, it's nothing," she snapped.

She instantly regretted it.

Spike looked like he had been slapped in the face and Buffy was instantly contrite. He was only trying to help her. She had no reason to treat him so callously, even if she was trying to push him away, to keep him from asking questions that were best left unanswered.

"All right," Spike replied, his eyes watching her warily, "if you don't wanna tell me, you don't have to."

Buffy sighed heavily. She could see the pain clearly reflected in his sapphire eyes. She was hurting him. She was trying to shield him from the truth, and all she was doing was hurting him. Maybe it was time that she finally told him. Maybe he deserved to know.

Buffy drew her eyes away, staring down at the place on the bed where their bodies still touched. Even though she was no longer lying in his arms, he still held her, and she still felt safe. She had to tell him the truth.

"I'm sorry Spike," Buffy said, before raising her eyes to his once more. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I was just being defensive."

"'S'all right luv. You've got plenty to be defensive about."

"No, not this time. Not with you."

"What are you sayin'?" He eyed her with thinly veiled apprehension.

"Spike, it wasn't a dream. We have done this before."

Spike snickered. "Think I'd remember if we'd done this before."

"We have," she replied, the words barely a whisper.

"When?"

Buffy held her breath for just a moment, trying to work up the nerve to finally say the words. "When I was in Heaven."

Buffy could feel Spike's body tense around her. His beautiful blue orbs filled with confusion and he seemed unable to speak.

Buffy decided to speak for him. "You held me like this before. When I was in Heaven."

Spike's eyes searched hers desperately, as if he was looking for a way to make sense of her words. "I wasn't in Heaven pet. Would've remembered if I was. Certainly would've remembered holding you."

"But it was you."

"Maybe it was a dream."

Buffy shook her head from side to side. "No dream. It was very real Spike, and you were there. So was . . ." Buffy tore her eyes away for a moment, unable to continue. When she was certain she could speak again without crying, she met Spike's gaze and said, "So was Mom."

Spike's arms fell away from her and he sat up further in the bed. "What are you talking about? Joyce was with you?"

Buffy nodded wordlessly, her eyes never leaving his.

"You never mentioned that before."

"I couldn't. I was afraid that if I did, you'd figure out the truth."

"What truth?"

"That when righteous souls leave this world, they really do go to Heaven. We really are reunited with those we've loved here on earth."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Please Buffy."

"You don't believe me?"

"Oh no, I believe you. Didn't suffer a stern Christian upbringing for nothin'. I just don't understand what this has to do with me."

"Don't you?"

"Not really. Mind selling me a clue?"

Buffy's eyes fell to his chest and she absently ran her fingertips over the fabric of his shirt, looking for anything to distract herself, to make telling him easier. Almost instantly, Spike's hand curled around her fingers and he stopped her movement.

"Tell me, luv. What has gotten into you?"

Buffy finally looked at him again. It was finally time for her to swallow her pride. "I know that I said I was only using you, all those times we . . ." Buffy couldn't finish the thought. She inhaled a sharp breath and steeled her nerves. "I wasn't with you because I needed to feel pain in order to know I was alive. I mean . . . yes I was, but that was just a small part of it. It wouldn't have worked with anyone else. It had to be you Spike, it had to be you."

Spike's fingers tightened around hers. "Why me Buffy? Why?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't really hurt me. Because I knew I could trust you."

Spike snickered again. "'Course." He released her hand and moved farther away on the bed.

"I mean it."

Buffy inched closer to him. She was relieved when he didn't back away.

"This isn't easy for me," Buffy said. "Being . . . close, isn't easy for me. But I have to tell you the truth. We were together in Heaven. You and I. Or . . . well . . . William and I."

Spike looked at Buffy as if she had just gone mad. His feet instantly hit the floor and he backed away from her, stopping on the other side of the room. "That's not possible."

"Of course it's possible. All righteous souls go to Heaven, don't you know that?" Buffy got up off the bed and stood in front of Spike. "And was there ever anyone more deserving than William Pratt?"

"How do you know my last name?"

"Do you believe me now?"

Spike backed even further away and began pacing the room in shear agitation. "I don't believe this, any of this. It's absolute rubbish."

"It's completely true."

Spike stopped. He cocked his head to the side and stared at her with haunted eyes. "You saw Joyce?"

"Yes."

"And how is she?"

"Happy." Buffy's voice trembled slightly with the word. Her mother was happy and even though she missed her, she knew that they would be together again one day.

"And . . . and how was . . . was . . . ?"

"William?"

"My soul?"

"Content."

"Until . . . until I ripped it out of Heaven."

Buffy couldn't speak. This, this is what she had been afraid of. When she had first come back from the dead, she hadn't told Spike about William because it had seemed too personal. It had been her own private memory of Heaven and she had been reluctant to share it. But after he had gotten his soul back, she hadn't told him for a very different reason. How did you tell someone that they had robbed their own soul of eternal peace and happiness? How did you tell them that, in doing so, they had probably condemned that very soul to eternal damnation?

Buffy knew, firsthand, what it was like be torn from the warmth and safety of such a place. But at least she had her friends to thank for that. It wasn't something she had done to herself. It was something that had been done to her. But Spike, Spike had ripped his own soul out of Heaven, and Buffy knew that the reality of that fact was going to be difficult for him to deal with.

In fact, that was why Buffy had reacted so strongly when Spike had first told her what he had done, that night in the church. She had cried because, even then, she had known what it meant, known that William had been separated from the peace and wonder of the eternal hereafter. And she had known that once Spike realized what he had done, it would be hard for him to live with.

Spike shook his head nearly imperceptibly, his eyes never leaving Buffy's. She could see that he was in pain, see that he was hurting, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. It was all her fault. She knew she never should have told him, but she was tired and she was emotional, and she had gotten caught up in the moment. Now she didn't know what to do.

Finally, words began to form in her brain and she was once again able to speak. "I'm sorry Spike. I shouldn't have told you."

"No." He shook his head again. "No, it's not your fault. It's my fault. I'm the one who tore my soul out of Heaven. It's all my doin'. Not yours."

"But if it wasn't for me, you never would have gone after your soul in the first place. You never would have—"

"Don't." Spike's hand shot out to stop her from talking. "Don't. This isn't your fault. It's mine. And it's not your problem either. It's my soul, and I'll be the one to deal with the consequences, yeah?"

"I'm sorry it had to be this way."

Spike shrugged it off, finally managing to wrap himself in the well-honed façade of indifference that he'd cultivated over the years. "Not a big deal. Don't worry about it pet. William will be just fine."

Buffy wanted to believe him, but she simply couldn't. Spike was a vampire. William's soul could be trapped in his body for centuries, millennia even. And any sin Spike committed, his soul would no doubt be held responsible for. It seemed highly unlikely that William would ever see Heaven again.

"Now, it's gettin' late. You need your rest," Spike said, nodding toward the bed. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?"

"Will you still stay with me?"

"Of course."

Buffy climbed back into bed and Spike followed. He wrapped Buffy up in his arms once again and she closed her eyes, yearning for sleep. But sleep wouldn't come.

Buffy needed to say something to Spike. If she couldn't make things better, maybe the least she could do was offer him some small shred of comfort.

"We were very happy you know. You and I."

"You mean you and William."

"He is you."

"No, he was me."

"No, he is you." Buffy lightly tapped her hand against Spike's chest. "He's in there right now."

"If you say so. But if he's in there, and the two of you had this wonderful little holiday in Heaven, then why don't I remember any of it?"

"I don't know. Maybe your demon's just too strong, that's all."

"Maybe." Spike began to stroke her hair once again. "So what was it like? Our time in Heaven together?"

"Happy. Warm. It was like being home."

"Wasn't runnin' around in a white sheet with wings, was I?"

Buffy tried to stifle a laugh as the image crystallized in her head. "No. Nothing like that. We didn't have a physical form. We were just energy, pure and simple. But I felt you. I knew it was you. You wrapped yourself around me and kept me warm and safe. You loved me. You made me feel loved."

Spike sighed heavily.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"It's a hard thing to ask. Your story doesn't sound too convincing, after all. Why my soul? Why not someone else's?"

"I don't know. Maybe . . . maybe Heaven's not that different from Hell or earth. Maybe we were just drawn to each other. Or maybe the Powers have a twisted sense of humor. I don't know. But it was real Spike, I swear."

Buffy yawned then, brining her hand up to cover her mouth, and then cuddling closer to Spike. It had been the longest day of her life, and her exhaustion was finally starting to overwhelm her.

Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, she heard Spike's voice whisper in the darkness, "Did you love me too?"

In a sleep induced haze, one simple word slipped from Buffy's lips, "Yes."

And before Spike could utter a single sound in reply, Buffy was fast asleep.

END


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